


Escape

by stuff_and_nonsense



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Nott and Caleb meet in prison, Pre-Stream (Critical Role)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 06:30:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18310079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stuff_and_nonsense/pseuds/stuff_and_nonsense
Summary: Nott runs from the goblins, but the rest of the world's not much kinder.





	Escape

**Author's Note:**

> There are a ton of fics already about Nott and Caleb meeting, but I never get tired of reading them, so here this is anyway.
> 
> CW for descriptions of goblins eating people and Nott-typical self-hatred.

It’s not hard to get away, the second time she runs.

She hasn’t planned it, hasn’t even seriously considered. She can’t go back to Felderwin, obviously, and she’s never been outside it. Never even crossed the river until the goblins came. But tonight she’s in camp, surrounded by riotously drunk goblins, and they’re not even jokingly pretending the meat on the fire is venison anymore. She’s in the process of getting incredibly drunk herself. There’d been a raid, then a celebration, and then the goblin next to her had fallen asleep so she’d stolen his wineskin. Another one had seen and cuffed her, but hadn’t taken it away.

She hadn’t recognized the halflings they’d brought back, so at least there’s that. But the goblins could have at least made a stew again, given her some plausible deniability, she thinks bitterly as she watches the limbs turn on the fire. She takes another swig. The stuff is foul, made from whatever rotten fruit and grains the goblins could collect, but she doesn’t care much how anything tastes these days, and at least it’s strong. If she’s really lucky, she won’t remember this in the morning. She drains the skin, then gets up and stumbles in the direction of the privy. Most of the goblins around her are asleep by now, and none of them stop her.

She could just keep going, she realizes once she’s reached the privy hole. No one’s followed her, no one’s stopped her; they don’t seriously think she’s going to leave at this point. She takes a few steps into the woods. Nothing happens. A few more, and then the wind carries the smell of cooked halfling flesh back from the camp, overlaying the stench of shit, and her mouth waters, and she starts to run.

She goes until she can’t hear the goblins behind her anymore, stops to puke, and then runs again. She’s not sure how long it’s been – it feels like hours – when her head starts to clear and she sits down to panic.

She doesn't even know where she is. She’s heading away from Felderwin, she’s pretty sure. Otherwise she’d have hit the river by now, right? But that still leaves a lot of options, and all she sees is woods. Maybe just she could stay here. She’s learned a little bit from the goblins about how to survive, if not how to live comfortably. But the clan would find her eventually, and she’s not going back to them. If she leaves, goes to find people, she’ll be killed on sight. But maybe that’s better. Back with the goblins, how long would it take before she doesn’t care about the torture or the eating people anymore? How long until she can’t remember what halflings look like alive and happy? She’s dead anyway, living on stolen time, and she doesn’t want to spend it like that anymore. She’ll find her way out of the woods and see how well she can hide. Maybe she’ll at least manage to get another drink before she’s put down.

She gets up and wanders until the treeline abruptly ends, giving way to fields of crops. There’s a farmhouse in the distance, maybe a few miles off, lit by the morning sun. She can’t approach in the daylight, and she’s exhausted, so she slips back into the woods and finds a hollow tree to sleep in. Every time an animal passes by, she wakes up in fear, but at last the evening comes and she gets up, somewhat rested. Then she creeps slowly out of the woods.

It takes a couple tries, a couple rounds of inching out, panicking, and running back in. But she makes it out eventually into the deserted fields. She’s wearing the rags she was given by the clan, and they don’t cover nearly as much as she’d like. With her face and arms and ears exposed, anyone who gets a look at her will know what she is. But she’s always been good at sneaking and hiding, and there’s no one out in sight. She makes her way towards the farmhouse, dashing between the fields of taller crops and hiding within their rows.

She arrives at the farmhouse, looks briefly through the window at the human family inside. It feels a little maudlin, absurd and too painful anyway, so she turns away and crawls towards the chicken coop nearby. She just means to steal a couple eggs, but her mouth waters at the sleeping chickens in a way it never did when she was Veth. She grabs the closest one and snaps its neck. On the way out she fumbles, knocks into a rake and sends it clattering to the floor. All the chickens wake up and start squawking, and Nott runs for it.

She’s halfway to the nearest wheat field when someone grabs her by the arm. She wriggles out of it, and sees the human man from the house, looking at her with anger and disgust. He grabs for her again, and she reacts on instinct, snapping her teeth at his hand. Thankfully, she misses – she doesn’t want to know what that feels like - but he winces back, giving her the chance to run again.

She makes it to the field, where the tall wheat will hide her in the dark. Then she keeps going, gets a few fields away and crouches in terror for a while until she’s sure he’s not chasing her. The night’s quiet, and her pounding heart slows down a little. Once the panic’s gone and she’s sure he’s not coming, she bites into the chicken, eats the whole thing right there in the field. There are dark stains on her hands from the blood, but she doesn’t waste time dwelling on it, just moves on to put as much distance between her and the farm as possible.

She finds another field to spend the day, curls up where the wheat’s thickest and hopes she’s hidden. No such luck - she’s woken a few hours later by something jabbing into her side. She jumps back, but it’s only a little boy, poking her with a stick. She tries a smile, and he shrieks, and she runs.

It’s much the same for the next few weeks. She finds another farm, where she gets some dried meat and a jug of beer from the cellar, and then a village, where she eats people’s garbage for a week until she’s chased out. She catches rats and gets rocks thrown at her and watches happy families and scares their children. She steals food, steals rings, steals whiskey, drinks and drinks and drinks.

Then she fucks up really badly. She’s out of booze and out of food, and she’s seen so many people and none of them have looked less than horrified at the sight of her. There’s a guard in this village who’d been suspicious earlier, and she knows she should leave town, but there’s a stall selling cherry wine right there, and she can just grab it on her way out….

The coast looks clear. She darts out from the cart she’s hiding under, grabs a bottle, and sprints down the road, straight into the knees of the guard she’d seen earlier. Then he has her by the scruff of the neck, and she’s chugging down the wine even as he drags her to the prison, because fuck this, fuck everything, what else is she going to do?

The wine is the only reason she doesn’t panic when she’s thrown into a cell and sees there’s already someone in there. She backs into the farthest corner, because even drunk she’s not totally stupid, and watches as he stirs awake. He’s a human man, twice her size, as far as she can tell under his pile of clothes, and incredibly filthy. He looks like someone Veth would have passed a coin to and shooed Luke away from.

He can probably see her ok. There’s a lantern on the wall across from them, and the dim light of early evening coming through the tiny window. She draws into herself, even though it won’t make any difference, and watches him take in her green skin and huge eyes and gross ugly face.

He doesn't look away from her, although he’s not moving to attack her yet, and she can’t stand waiting anymore. “Hello,” she says. It’s the first word she’s spoken in weeks, if she doesn’t count swearing at the guard earlier. “I won’t kill you if you don’t try to kill me, ok?”

“That seems fair,” he says. He has a heavy accent, one she’s heard occasionally from merchants but can’t place. His agreement’s a good sign, but no guarantee. He’s still so much bigger than her, and she’s so tired. They’re all alone in here – there’s a bit of space beyond the cell bars, benches and a desk, but all the guards are in the other room, through a closed door. Not that they’d help her anyway probably.

They stare at each other a while longer. “Do you like cats?” he asks eventually.

“What kind of a question is that?” she blurts out. “They’re all right, I guess. They taste pretty good.”

She regrets it immediately. Real people don’t say things like that. She’s got a brief truce with this guy somehow, and she’s going to ruin it. She braces for the look of disgust, but he just blinks at her.

“Well, I’ll hold off on introducing my friend then.” He turns away, curls back into the pile of straw in his corner as if to sleep.

“Wait!” Nott says. “What’s your name?” This is the closet thing to a conversation she’s had since she left the goblins, and she can’t help pushing her luck.

He’s quiet for a long moment. “Caleb,” he says. “Caleb Widogast.”

“I’m Nott,” she says back. It’s her first time saying it aloud. The goblins had given her the name, so she didn’t have to tell them, and no one else has asked. “Nott the Brave.” He doesn't answer, no ‘nice to meet you’, but she figures that’s still better than she’d expected. “You don’t have a pin or anything, do you?” she asks. “I could maybe pick the lock, but they took all my stuff.”

He looks at her with real interest for the first time. “You could do that?” 

“Maybe,” she says. She used to hide in the cellar sometimes, as a kid, and her brothers would lock the door for a laugh if they found her there. Eventually she’d figured out how to pick the lock and get out. The lock on the jail cell might be harder, but she doesn’t have any better ideas.

“I’d certainly like to be gone before they question me tomorrow,” he says. “I don’t have anything, but I might be able to get it.” He hesitates, then snaps his fingers. A cat appears out of nowhere, just beyond the bars. 

Nott gapes. She’s seen magic a handful times, from traveling circuses or visiting officials, but not often, and never so close. That’s amazing. What else can he do? 

Before she can ask, he speaks again. “I can borrow his eyes to look for a pin. I won’t be able to see from my own eyes while I do, so please shake me if anything happens or the guards return.”

She nods, and his blue eyes cloud over and begin to glow. The cat trots off. She’s a little amazed that he’s willing to blind himself locked in with a goblin. But what choice does he have, probably. He knows she needs him to get the pin, but it’s nice that he figures she’s smart enough to remember that. If she did eat him, which she’s definitely not going to, he’d last her for a while, but they’re going to question her too tomorrow anyway and probably kill her after that, so what’d be the point?

She does creep a little closer to get a better look at him. He’s older that her, but not that much older, she thinks. It’s hard to tell with the beard. He’s pretty skinny, she can see once she’s up close, hollow cheeks and dull hair. She wonders what he did to get locked in here with her. Maybe he was stealing food. Or maybe he’s a murderer or something, who knows. But he looks kind of sad and scared as he stares off into nothing. She hopes he’s someone nice. She makes herself go back to her own corner before she can get too sympathetic. She doesn’t want to know what he’ll do if he wakes up to see her looming over him.

It’s a long, nerve-wracking wait until the cat comes back. She checks and rechecks her empty pockets, looks over at Caleb again and again. Maybe he has something in his pockets that the guards missed. But before she can get up the nerve to check, the cat slips back in through the bars, a piece of metal clutched in its mouth. Caleb’s eyes return to normal. He snaps his fingers, and the cat is gone; the bit of metal clinks to the floor. 

“I hope that works,” he says. “I will watch for the guards, ja?”

Nott picks up the bit of metal, and starts on the lock. She hasn’t done this as a goblin, and it takes some getting used to, figuring out how to hold it with longer fingers and thick claws.

The door across from their cell starts to open just as she pops the lock off. Caleb notices too, scrambles to his feet. She doesn’t quite see what he does, his back to the door, but suddenly the pile of straw he’d been sitting on is ablaze. He turns and grabs the bars, starts to yell. “Fire! Help!”

The guard who’s just come through swears and turns around, leaving them alone. Nott tugs open the unlocked cell door, and hurries out, Caleb following after. The guardroom ahead of them is empty too, and she grabs what she can on the way out, a half-filled bottle of ale and a hand crossbow. Caleb looks around frantically and then takes a pair of books stowed high on a shelf, hugs them tight to his chest. They make it out the front door into chaos, a crowd gathered around the rising flames. Someone sees them and shouts, but the rest are distracted, and they don’t seem to be pursued as they run for the edge of town.

There’s a stretch of woods not far off, Nott had noted when she approached the town. She heads straight for it, and to her surprise Caleb follows. She hears him crashing behind her, large and clumsy in the dark. 

He swears, and turns to see him caught by a branch that’s gotten tangled in his long hair. She walks back and snaps it off for him.

“Thank you,” he says, and she absurdly wants to hug him for it. He’s the first person who’s spoken politely to her since her death, the first one who’s treated her like anything other than an idiot or a monster. It’s just because she’s useful, she reminds herself. He’ll chase her off as soon as they’re far enough from the prison.

The woods around them are black, dim even to her goblin eyes, and she can’t hear any sounds of pursuit. “I think maybe we lost them,” she says. “I’d like to keep going until morning though, just in case.”

“Ja, that’s wise,” he replies. “Pardon me just a moment.” He tears a scrap off the edge of his coat, which is barely holding together anyway. He snaps his fingers together again. A little globe of light appears in front of him, and he wraps the fabric around it to dim it. “Hopefully I’ll be less of a hindrance to you this way.”

They walk on until the sky begins to lighten. “I usually sleep around now,” she says. “Maybe we could take shifts?” He looks at her for a long moment, and she cringes. Too much, pushing his tolerance. But eventually he nods. 

“I can take first watch,” he says. 

Nott wriggles in among some tree roots, while he sits nearby. It takes her a long time to sleep; she keeps opening her eyes to check on him. But he just keeps sitting there, sometimes looking around, sometimes flipping through the books he’d grabbed, eventually bringing the cat back again and stroking it. After a while, the exhaustion hits, and she drifts off to sleep.

He’s still there when she wakes up, and they silently switch places, Caleb lying down and Nott perching on top of the roots. She’s pretty sure he’s doing the same thing as her, popping his eyes open every five minutes to watch her, but that’s only smart. She sips her stolen ale as she looks between him and the woods around them. She’s not sure what he’s doing hanging around with her – he can do magic! How’d he end up in jail? Why’d he follow a goblin into the woods? – but she’ll take it. Maybe he’ll stick around tomorrow too, while they get further away from the prison. It could be useful, to have someone big and human to travel with. Maybe he’ll even talk to her some more. Things are still pretty bad, but they could be just a little bit better now.


End file.
